Chapter 34

Vanetta and Lisa finished breakfast and met Ted outside, where he had the limo waiting. It was a ten-minute ride to the legal offices that serviced Fit magazine. Lisa explained that since the magazine catered to a specific market and rarely ran anything controversial, the magazine had dropped in-house council and opted for a firm it kept on retainer. Vanetta told her TKO did the same thing for much the same reason.

"I had planned to take you on the wine tour today," Lisa said, "but the train leaves every morning at nine and I 'didn't want to rush you or have you feel we were rushing through the boring, legal stuff."

"A wine tour involving a train?" Vanetta asked with raised eyebrows.

Ted chuckled from the front seat. "It's a tour of the wine producing valleys, Ms. Clarke," he said and gave Vanetta some background on the tour.

"The first wine train run was in September of 1989. Using tracks ceded from Southern Pacific, Mr. Vincent DeDomenico put together a set of rolling stock, upgraded trackage, and over the disagreement of a significant part of the Napa Valley Winery population, started the service. Mr. DeDomenico is a second-generation chief executive of the family-owned Golden Grain Company, though you might know them better as the makers of Rice-A-Roni."

"Oh," said Vanette, "the San Francisco Treat!"

Ted and Lisa laughed and Ted told her, yes, it was their most famous product, but that the company actually made a lot of other grain products.

"Disagreement over the wine train stems from an attitude that the wine train makes the valley look like a Disney theme park, especially since the train 'doesn't actually go to any wineries, it just goes by some of them. But they serve various tastes of a variety of fruits."

"The cars of the wine train and the engine are painted dark burgundy, champagne gold, and grape leaf green. The interior of the cars is Honduran mahogany paneling and brass accents, with etched glass partitions and wool carpeting. The parlor cars were built in 1915 for the Northern Pacific Railroad and sold in 1960 to the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad, who used them for their famous ski train. They were used for a one-day ski excursion every weekend from Denver to the Rockie Mountain ski resorts. A Pullman coach car, built for the Southern Railway Company in 1915, is the kitchen for the wine train. The engines are ALCO - that stands for American Locomotive Company - FA4s, built in 1950. The Vista-Dome car was restored to its original 1950 décor."

Vanetta took in the information and was secretly happy they had missed the train.

"The depot is located in downtown Napa," Lisa added to 'Ted's commentary, and admitted to Vanetta's relief, "actually 'I'm glad we missed it. I wasn't sure it was the best way to show off San Francisco," she said, "but I 'wasn't sure 'you'd want to spend the day looking at our famous shopping district, either."

"Actually, I love window shopping," said Vanetta. "Charlotte has some great stores, but I'm curious about the left side of the country."

"Do you buy many?" Ted asked with a smile on his face.

"Many what?" Vanetta asked, confused by the seeming non sequitur.

"Windows," said Ted. "You said you liked window shopping. You must live in some fancy house to replace windows as a hobby."

Vanetta joined with Lisa in laughter at the thought.

"Men simply don't understand, do they?" said Lisa.

Before Vanetta had a chance to respond, Ted pulled up in front of a fancy office building and placed the limo in park, then got out to help the ladies out. After escorting them into the lobby, Lisa told him that they would probably be an hour, and she would call him on his cell when they were ready to leave.

Ted nodded, and after seeing the ladies to the elevator, he headed back to the limo and pulled away. Vanetta watched the sparkling-clean limo drive off and asked Lisa, "Also on retainer?"

"Yes," said Lisa. He's self employed, and I think we provide him enough work to make it profitable for him. He works nights and weekends on other accounts he has established. He's very good and a safe driver, and his interaction with our clients makes him a gem."

For the next hour and a half, the lawyer for Fit went over the contract word by word, spending some time on conference call with Steve in Charlotte to clarify a few points. Finally, came the signing of the paperwork, and afterwards, Vanetta let out a sigh. It was all legal and binding now. Lisa let out a sigh as well. She had managed to pull off a coup that would ensure her job for a long time to come and probably a very hefty bonus as well. Lisa called Ted, and by the time the girls were back in the lobby, Ted was waiting for them. Both women clutched their copies of the contracts tightly, and Lisa told Ted to take them back to the FIT office so that she could give Vanetta the nickel tour.

Vanetta was surprised at how compact the offices of the publishing company were.

Lisa explained that the bulk of the staff on the premises were sales people and that most of the writing was supplied by freelancers or syndicated writers. "I'm really the only one who actually writes here in the office," Lisa explained. "I do the intro each month and suggest which columns are must-reads. Our freelancers are regulars, and they know the magazine's writing guidelines and what our audience likes. We have six layout people who do the magazine, and when I'm satisfied with the results, it gets transmitted over the internet to our printer. After the printer has it all assembled via software, they courier a draft to me and I look over every page and every word. Our sales people check their ads and placement, and when approved, the printer gets a call from me, and that's the last we see of it till we get our sample copies and giveaways."

"You contract the mailing and newsstand delivery as well?" Vanetta asked.

"It's more efficient that way," said Lisa. "A bit more expensive as well, but the contractor is the most dependable distributor on the West Coast. It saves us a lot of headaches knowing that delivery is ensured."

"Plus you save the cost of a traffic manager," added Vanetta.

"That's true," said Lisa as they walked into the sales room.

Vanetta recognized most of the faces from the night before and was greeted with smiles and friendly remarks as she followed Lisa to her office. Unlike TKO, where it was hard to tell who was an employee, and who was the boss, Lisa's office at Fit clearly stated she was where the buck screeched to an abrupt halt. Large and spacious, it had a private washroom off to one side and a mini bar and conference table large enough for 12 on the other side. Vanetta spotted an espresso machine as well as the regular coffee maker tucked in one corner, along with a small fridge and ice maker.

"Since we're generally the ones making the calls, and rarely get walk-in clients, we've had to keep up with the times in other areas as well," Lisa continued. "You probably noticed that the only receptionists were on the main floor. We don't have our own. The entire building is a co-op filled with various businesses. We share the cost of the receptionists and cut down our required floor space at the same time."

"I understand what you're saying, Lisa," said Vanetta. "Our office is located in an industrial park. No receptionist and not even any sign. People either know who we are or they don't. We don't need to advertise since we turn away more work than we actually accept. Todd is very particular about what work he'll take on. Whoever is available will answer the phone. We do have a reception room for people to wait in comfort because most of the studio - including the desks - is part of the open-air set up. Our office in New York is getting outdated. There, we still have offices and cubicles and receptionists, but in this age of internet communications, now that we can, we plan on leaving the high-rent district and moving all our operations down to Charlotte. Most of our models are chosen from a catalog or from previous work, and they live all around the country. There just isn't a need for a large central office except for accountants any longer, and we can find those in Charlotte as easily as in New York, though we plan on offering all our staff in New York the opportunity to move south."

"It's nice that TKO is so diversified that you don't have to rely just on models," said Lisa. "Last I heard, Todd's asking price for a day shoot is the highest in the industry."

Vanetta laughed and explained that Todd's prices varied primarily by how interested he was in doing the particular job offered. How his interests had moved away from runway models and onto real people and places.

Lisa placed her copy of the signed contract on her desk and asked if Vanetta wanted to spend the day shopping or touring.

"How about a bit of both, Lisa?" Vanetta asked.

"That we can do as well," said Lisa. She called down to Ted, and as they left, Vanetta said goodbye to the sales staff, ensuring them all that she would be in touch soon, and that it was nice to be able to put faces to names and the voices she'd been hearing from the other end of the phone for the last month.

Ted was waiting downstairs and drove them to a UPS office first, where Vanetta sent her signed contract back to Charlotte via overnight courier. It would be at the office by the time she returned. From there, Ted drove them back to the Fairmont where Lisa assured him that she could find her own way home after some sight seeing. As Ted helped Vanetta out of the limo, he smiled at her and said he would see her tomorrow morning and then with a bow, eased his limo out into traffic.

Vanetta saw a cable car approaching and grinned at Lisa, who shrugged her shoulders and said, "Why not?" They boarded the cable car, destination unknown, and Lisa outlined some of the options.

MaryAnn Meyers was exasperated with Kelly. "Look, Kelly, I know better than anyone else how much you dislike doctors, but I'm a GP. You need an OB-GYN to start taking over the health issues of your coming childbirth. Now, an old friend of mine, Dr. Angela Mark, has agreed to take you on. She's one of the best, and you're lucky that I was able to get an appointment for you this afternoon. Here's her address; you're scheduled for an ultrasound, blood tests, and counseling at two o'clock."

Laura knew Kelly was adamant about giving birth at home, so she took the paper MaryAnn had written the address on and promised the doctor that she'd get Kelly there, and on time.

Kelly had argued, and only after being told by MaryAnn that the birthing rooms at the Presbyterian hospital were open for family deliveries, and that her birth would a family affair but with the security of hospital staff and services, did Kelly finally capitulate.

"I'm going to feel like a pin cushion before the day is over," said Kelly to Laura as Laura parked a block away from the Eastover-University OB/GYN clinic on W. T. Harris Boulevard.

"Don't worry, Honey," said Laura, holding Kelly's hand and swinging their arms as they walked to the clinic. "I'll kiss all your booboos and make them all better."

Kelly laughed, Laura easing some of her stress, and she slipped her arm around her lover's waist. "I'm so lucky to have you, Laura. I'm not sure if I could do this by myself."

Laura slipped her now-free hand around Kelly's waist as well and hugged her girlfriend closer to her. Words weren't needed now — just resolve.

Todd had wanted to come, but Kelly had told him it was silly to take time away from the studio when he had so much work to do. Now though, with the change in plans and the meeting with the new doctor, Kelly wished Todd could be there with them so he could see the ultrasound himself. With a sigh, she started up the steps looking for Dr. Mark's office.

But Todd and Ami were busy. They had Sherri's portfolio to print, and they wanted to make proofs of the band so they could chose some good PR pictures. They had started shortly after arriving at the studio and were already deep in their work when Robert returned from Eric's with the new van. Todd checked out the van's outside decals while Cara and Ami explored the inside. Pleased with the results, Todd and Ami went back to the darkroom.

Kelly remembered she had an appointment to take Cara to meet Mistress Helga at five. When MaryAnn had pulled her surprise and sent her to see Dr. Mark, Kelly had called Todd and told him of the change in plans and said she and Laura would eat lunch in town and pick up Cara afterwards. Todd, by that time deep into making prints, grunted his acknowledgement and wished her luck, grumbling that he couldn't attend the new appointment with his lovers.

Robert and Cara found themselves alone in the studio. With little else to do, they started talking. Comfortable with the idea that Robert wasn't going to try and put any moves on her, Cara started discussing her dreams and nightmares with him as they sipped mineral water.

"I know that my future is taken care of," said Cara, "but what I'm afraid of is that at some point Kelly won't want Ami and me staying with her."

Robert could see Cara was serious and asked what the problem was with that.

"Well, I know Ami and I could handle living in our own place," said Cara, "but I don't think either of us wants to yet. We like the lifestyle at Kelly's house — you know — the openness and unpretentious way they all live and act."

Robert, who had just gotten a crash course in the way that Todd, Kelly, and Laura lived and interacted with others, just nodded his head. At first he had been shocked and surprised at the open attitude towards nudity and the easy lifestyle of the trio and even more so at the three-way relationship which seemed to work so well for them. It was also the first working environment that he had seen where everyone shared in the everyday mundane and routine duties equally without quibble or personal motives. Places like TKO couldn't exist in real life, and yet he was now here working for one, and unless he was dreaming, such a situation really did exist!

"Then there's the vitamins and stuff," Cara continued not realizing Robert had slipped away for a minute in his own thoughts. "We don't know enough..."

"Bullshit," said Robert suddenly. "I know exactly what the problem is, and the damn thing is that now I understand it completely. They're so easy to be around, and you can be who you are without the phony front others expect of you. It's that unconditional love people say they want - but never get - because in spite of it, they all still have rules and conditions. Whereas with Todd, Kelly, and Laura, there are no expectations except to enjoy life, period. You do what you have to do, but you don't have to do it under pretense or pressure. Like right now. Todd and Ami are going to need some lunch soon, but I'll bet they haven't even thought about it yet. And you and I both know that because we're not busy, we'll be making that lunch for them without being asked because they are busy. They can eat quick and get back to work."

Cara laughed and said that she had wondered about lunch and what she could make.

"No," said Robert, "it's what we will make together, because we both care for them, and I was thinking of chicken Caesar salad with lots of fresh juice."

Cara readily agreed and grabbed fresh vegetables and apples out of the studio refrigerator to run through the juicer. Robert heated a skillet and added olive oil to it before laying in strips of frozen, skinless, and boneless chicken breasts. As the chicken cooked, he started to prepare the rest of the ingredients for the salad.

Todd and Ami were working like a team that had been together for a long time. As he mixed chemicals, she poured them on the exposed film. As fast as he got a print out of the enlarger, she took it from his hands and placed it in the developer. Their dialog when they spoke was light, friendly banter except for those times he was teaching her something new like how to dodge or burn in an area on a print. Even with the large darkroom, they had to work closely side by side, yet even a trained observer would have said it was like watching an exquisitely choreographed dance in progress. Todd had on one of his Trek T-shirts and a pair of comfortable and light scrub pants. Ami as per her habit was only wearing a pair of panties.

After every batch of film they ran through, they would turn on the regular lights and examine the prints before they hung them in the dryer. Todd was quite pleased with the shots of Sherri and knew he now had a working portfolio that would allow him to soon present her to TKO's preferred clients. He was also secretly pleased with Ami's shots of the Williams sisters and their boy band. She had a natural eye for the right shot and of the magazines of film she had exposed, close to 50% were better than acceptable, a much higher percentage than Todd had expected. Ami had a talent for getting people to ignore the camera and talk to her personally while she unobtrusively tripped the remote for the shutter release. Based on his textbook rule of three shots for every person in a sitting, Ami had shot a whole cartridge worth on each pose, and her knack of knowing her subject had given her a much higher acceptable pose ratio based on people blinking or yawning or moving. The problem would be finding the best of the close to 60 shots she had taken. Todd figured between the pose changes and costume changes, they only needed three good ones.

They both heard the swishing of the darkroom door and watched Cara enter.

"Ami, you're naked again!"

"No," said Ami, "just half naked. I've still got my panties on."

"Still?"

"Well I don't usually take them off in here," said Ami with a snicker.

"Can you tell me why you find it necessary to work in the darkroom in nothing more than your panties?" Cara asked in exasperation.

"Well," Ami said with a sigh. "Todd seems to think that my sheltered life left me with an emotional scar, thus necessitating my need for external validation, so that as I bloom into full womanhood I feel I am attractive to the male species, and being that Todd is an expert on such matters and a safe, yet subjective member of said species, I trust his judgment."

"I said all that?" Todd asked with a smile.

"I elaborated on your words a bit so that my lover would understand that while I trust her appreciation for my physical beauty, she knows I also have to consider that her appreciation is probably skewed by her love for my mind."

"Oh, good Lord," said Cara. "What if it had been Robert who had come in to tell you that lunch was ready whenever you guys are?"

"Then he would have gotten a pleasant surprise, I'm sure," said Ami. "Besides, it's not like he hasn't seen me in all my glory before." Then looking down at herself, she added, "Well, most of my glory, anyway."

Cara slipped her arms around Ami. "As long as they just admire your beauty, Sweetheart," then she gave each of Ami's nipples a tug. "And leave the physical adoration of your beauty to me."

Ami gave Cara a soulful kiss and then pulled away. "Thanks, Honey. We should be ready to take a break in about ten minutes."

Cara gave Ami a playful slap on her butt, and for good measure, gave one to Todd as well. "We'll see you whenever you're done. Don't rush on account of us."

"Hello, Kelly," said Dr. Angela Mark, shaking Kelly's hand. "I've heard a lot about you from MaryAnn. I'd be happy to be your doctor through your pregnancy and help you bring your baby into this world." Turning to Laura, she said, with hand extended, "And you must be Laura. I'm happy to meet you as well."

"It's our pleasure," said Laura. "Kelly wanted to do a home birth, but Dr. Myers assured us that the birthing room at the Presbyterian hospital is as close to home as possible while maintaining a safe environment in case complications come up."

Angela laughed and asked if Laura had memorized MaryAnn's spiel. "You have it down to the letter," she added.

Laura blushed as Kelly slipped her arm around her waist. "I think my girlfriend is the nervous one," Kelly said. "This is her first baby."

Laura laughed good-naturedly with Kelly and Angela and followed Kelly into the examination room.

Kelly quickly slipped out of her T-shirt and shorts, not bothering with the offered paper gown. She squeaked when Dr. Mark squirted her belly with cold gel, her nipples coming right to attention. Dr. Mark noticed and apologized for the abrupt wake up call, but told her it was needed to facilitate the ultrasound.

"But, Doc, you don't have to keep the stuff in the refrigerator, do you?"

"Sorry, Kelly, but the gel isn't chilled," Angela said laughing. "It's just naturally cold."

Thirty minutes later, back in her office, Dr. Mark listened intently and made notes as Kelly described her vitamin regimen and exercise habits. She had been tipped by Dr. Myers about Kelly's three-cigarettes-a-day — most days — habit and avoided that subject. Kelly was a healthy woman in her prime, and many of Angela's patients could do well following Kelly's healthy diet and vitamin supplement regimen. She scheduled follow-up appointments for the next few months and expressed a desire, if possible, to meet the father. Kelly had been quite candid about her three-way relationship, and Angela was both intrigued and curious.

Kelly promised to bring Todd in so that Dr. Mark could get some blood work from him, but otherwise, the doctor advised Kelly to just keep on doing what she was doing.

Lew and Harry had been getting their new office in shape when the call had come from the holding cells. Ed Labadie, in behind bars because he seemed to have been stalking Harry's daughter, Laura, and found to have a gun on him while doing it, had a visitor, and Lew had to rush down to lockup to listen in on the conversation. After returning, Lew expressed his concern over what Ed Labadie had spouted off to his alleged cousin, John Labadie, mentioning that Todd, not Laura, was actually the target of whatever deviltry the legal firm in Cleveland had planned.

"Not much we can do, Lew," said Harry. "I told Todd that if he had anything he preferred to keep off the radar that we wouldn't stop him from leaving, but he says he doesn't even know anybody from Ohio."

"This is way too weird," said Lew as he pinned a district school map on the wall. "There're no outstanding warrants or charges against him on the national scene at all. So why's an ambulance-chasing pond sucker looking for him."

"If we get a chance, we'll have to ask him," said Harry. "I wonder if we're looking under the wrong name for outstandings?"

"Harry, you're as good at judging people as I am. Does anything feel right about this to you?"

"You mean do I think Todd is hiding from something?" asked Harry.

"Nah... We couldn't both see the same guy and not know if he was cagey. We've been cops too long for that. I mean why the hell would anybody go to so much effort to find him, and be so secretive about it? I think there's a tempest a-blowing."

Harry nodded. He had thought the same thing himself. Somebody had spent some serious money to find Todd, and it wasn't just to serve him with papers. Somebody wanted more. A lot more!

"We're supposed to be hotshot detectives now, Lew. What're we missing here?"

Lew stopped what he was doing, smiled, and looked at Harry. "Yeah, we are detectives now aren't we? Let's do some detecting. How did you figure out what his real name was?"

Harry leaned back in his well-worn wood-back bucket desk chair. "I get what you're saying. I found it because I know who he is now, and all I had to do was go backwards. Knowing the end made tracing back easy. But if you didn't know what the end was..."

"Exactly," said Lew with a grin. "If you started from the beginning, not knowing where he went, it would look like Todd had dropped off the face of the earth."

"Living the way he does, and knowing he spent most of his time on location shoots, he never had to register a new address. He traveled out of his suitcase," said Harry, getting more excited.

"That's my guess," said Lew. "If he dropped out of newspaper shooting when he changed his name and started doing the fashion circuit, he could probably have traveled for years without having to set up an apartment or buy a permanent place."

"That would definitely explain how he managed to save up a tidy nest egg," added Harry. "Just think of the potential. Go from one location to another, staying in hotels and living on expense accounts, and he could have saved every penny he ever earned. From what Kelly has told me, he was well paid too. Supposed to be one of the highest paid and best at what he did till he grew tired of it, then he and Kelly settled here in Charlotte."

"It's not like he has a common last name," said Lew, "at least not his birth name."

Harry was already ahead of him and fired up the new computer in their office. Harry entered the name Vanden Ayres into the National Police Database. Lew stood patiently as Harry did his hunt and peck. Not that Lew could type any faster even with his more extensive time behind a desk. Cops who had to type did so with four fingers only — it was a tradition. Computers had not changed this tradition.

Harry waited for the net to spit back the results and was surprised to see seven listings for Vanden Ayres, till Lew pointed out that Harry had searched the entire country. Using the mouse, Harry clicked on Ohio and was relieved to see only one name left. Adrian Vanden Ayres had a listed phone number and address. Lew picked up the phone and called the closest local police station. Introducing himself and explaining to the desk sergeant that this was only a background check, Lew was transferred to a senior duty officer.

"Vanden Ayres?" asked the sergeant. "Yeah, we know him. Didn't know he had left the state. What'd he do down your way?"

"Nothing," said Lew, "at least not yet, this is about a problem that might develop. Can you tell me if your guy has any kids?"

The duty sergeant started laughing. "Don't tell me there really is a prodigal son!"

Harry was listening in on another line and shook his head at Lew. Lew nodded back at him understanding his partner's concern.

"Why'd you say that, Sarge?" Lew asked, keeping the other officer talking.

"Vanden Ayres is a hot head. Short fuse and a miserly SOB. Shortly after he landed in our neck of the woods, he filed a criminal complaint against a son he claims to have. Tried to pressure us to find the alleged son, but there's no record of the kid, or at least one ever having been in Ohio. Vanden Ayres wanted his alleged son arrested for theft, but couldn't prove his claim of a kid, much less anything stolen. It was an alleged crime by an alleged son, and while we have it on record, it's filed in our GIGO drawer."

Lew laughed. "Yep, we got us a few things stashed in our own 'Garbage In Garbage Out' drawer, too. Waste of taxpayers' money is what they are. Thanks for the info, Sarge. If we can ever return the favor..."

"Yeah, yeah... If I'm ever curious about somebody in Charlotte, I'll be calling you up on that marker personally, Detective Weaver."

Lew thanked him again for his time and was about to hang up when the duty sergeant in Ohio told him to hold on a minute.

"While we were talking, I brought up the file on Vanden Ayres. Don't know if this will be helpful to you or not, but if you happen to know a Theodor Vanden Ayres, you might want to tell him that even though the statue of limitations has run out on the complaint, he might want to make an application to remove the complaint from our files."

"Thanks Sarge. If I ever meet a Theodor Vanden Ayres, I'll tell him that."

"Yeah, right. Have a good day, detective," and with a chuckle, the Sergeant disconnected.

Harry looked at Lew. "Should we tell Todd?"

"Tell him what? That's there's some bullshit charge in Ohio that he might want to take care of? Hell, we're not even sure if Todd is this Theodor."

"It doesn't feel right, Lew. It just don't feel right to me. I think I'll drop a bug in Laura's ear. Maybe she can bring it up sometime. I don't want Todd to think we're checking up on him."

"Hell, Harry. We're just trying to protect him. That's what friends are for."

"Yeah, I suppose," said Harry with a sigh. "Feels too much to me like we're snooping, so I guess we'll tell him when we see him again. It's nothing that we need to worry about now. Let's see about getting some real work done."

Across town, John Labadie, or Jack as he was known to his friends, had left 'cousin' Ed to rot there in jail as per instructions from Gerry, his boss. Jack was now sitting at a table at a Denny's waiting for Judge Richardson to join him for a friendly lunch. Jack had the lettuce in his jacket pocket. One thousand leaves of it divided into ten easy-to-carry heads - all bearing the likeness of Benjamin Franklin. Jack hoped the judge would be satisfied with the salad that would come with his lunch.